


The Coat Origins

by Inner_Devil



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Belstaff, Bullying, Complete, Hate mail, Other, The Coat - Freeform, mention of drug use, the coat origin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-10 12:27:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11126997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inner_Devil/pseuds/Inner_Devil
Summary: This is where it all began. Where Sherlock Holmes was born. In some cases, the man makes the outfit. But sometimes, the clothes make the man.





	The Coat Origins

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Explore the origins of the Belstaff? We know it is Sherlock's armor against the world and an iconic part of protective persona he created. Has anyone ever written about how he came to have that particular coat, beyond the AU of PIALR (Performance in a Leading Role) where it is a gift from John?

Sherlock was always bullied as a child. The other children never wanted to play with him, not even when he tried to join in their games. They sometimes even threw things at him! But when he came home, things seemed to be better. He had Redbeard and Mycroft and Mummy and Daddy. Everyone there seemed to love him. But he never mentioned what the other kids did. He didn't have to, because one day, Mycroft saw. Sherlock didn't know about that until years later, but it didn't matter. What really mattered was what Mycroft did years later.

\--

Sherlock was becoming more and more of a household name as he began his detective work. Unfortunately, not everyone was happy about it. He often got hate mail from the families of those he put in jail, sometimes even death threats. And as things continued to progress, Sherlock was worse and worse off. Eventually, Mycroft caught word that Sherlock had been seen going into a drug den and not coming back out. 

It turned out that Sherlock had become ill from a shared needle. Thankfully none of the more dangerous or lifelong illnesses, but enough to land him in the hospital for nearly a month. Mycroft visited him every day, telling him about other cases, lecturing him about drug use, and making sure he was okay. And finally Sherlock was released. Mycroft had come with a gift that he planned to give Sherlock when they were home again, but something happened before they even left the hospital.

Just as they walked out, a swarm of reporters forced their way over to Sherlock, surrounding him. No one really knew how much Sherlock really hated people. But it was more than that. Having so many lights and cameras and microphones, questions and accusations shouted at him. He was terrified and his eye grew wide, only leading to more speculation and questions. Mycroft managed to get them to back off, bringing Sherlock back inside.

"Th-there's too many of them, Mycroft," Sherlock panted, staring at the ground. "I can't.....I can't go back out there."

"Yes, you can," Mycroft assured, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder. "It's going to be fine. You can make it out there. You'll get home safe and sound, I promise." He paused, the gift for his brother in his hand. "I was going to give this to you later, but I think you need it now," he decided, opening it for him. Inside the box was a beautiful, brand new Belstaff coat, perfectly measured for Sherlock.

"How will this help?" Sherlock asked, looking up at his brother.

"You believed a stick was a sword as a child. And that your blankets could protect you from monsters," Mycroft pointed out with a chuckle. "And you believed that I could save you from anything or anyone."

"I'm not a child anymore," Sherlock protested.

"No, you're not. But I'm still your brother. I've always been protecting you, Sherlock. Even if you never noticed it. And I'm still protecting you now," he insisted, then helped Sherlock into the coat. "As long as you're wearing this, you'll be safe. Even if I'm not physically there. Nothing will hurt you while you wear this. Like a shield. You can put up the collar and block everyone out until you're in a safe place again where you can breathe."

Sherlock glanced at the coat, looking it over as though in disbelief that this thing could that. This fabric could shield him from the world.

"Do you trust me?" Mycroft asked.

"Of course," Sherlock answered.

"Then trust what I said. Just put up the collar and walk out to the car. They won't touch you," Mycroft assured.

And so he did. Sherlock walked out with his coat collar up, ignoring everyone as he went to the car and slipped inside with Mycroft. And as promised, no one touched him. He really began to believe then. He was safe as long as he had his coat. obviously it couldn't protect from bullets or any of that. But it protected him emotionally. He could be cold and calculating with his coat on, shielding him from the judgement he'd faced his entire life. His coat really was his shield.


End file.
